Lots of questions today about writing and writing-with-others…

Jennifer wrote to me and said, "We’ve got some people in our church who just returned from years away as missionaries. When they heard I was doing some writing, they suggested I help them write their story as a book. Do you think that’s a good idea for someone trying to break into the market?"

If a person walks up to you and invites you to write a book that tells their interesting personal story, my advice is to look them straight in the eye, smile, and pretend you’ve gone deaf. Maybe start talking about the 1962 Mets. Or begin to babble incoherently, flail your arms, and, if necessary, wet your pants. Anything to make them go away. As an alternative, you could simply say "no," or even, "No…and by the way I don’t like your shirt," which works even better. I’m not negating the power of personal story, but there is simply NO market for personal story books these days. Oh, sure, occasionally there will be some incredible tale of overcoming the odds that makes it to print (this year we’ve got "Why I Jumped," last year brought us "90 Minutes in Heaven," and the year before was "The Last Dance but Not the Last Song"). But they’re rare. Even great stories of personal triumph are a hard sell and generally don’t do well in stores (so while "90 Minutes" is selling like crazy, neither of those other two books, though given lots of marketing attention, really hit the big time).  The idea of people racing out to buy somebody else’s tale of woe or success (or both) is pretty far fetched in this day of 24/7 entertainment. You want a great personal story? Turn on the talk shows or watch Hallmark or Oxygen or CourtTV and you can find a dozen of them, every day, in  medium that requires far less work than reading a book. From my perspective, there’s simply no sense in using your limited writing hours to create a book that nobody is going to buy.  I’m not saying it will be a bad story — only that you’ll find it’s an uphill climb just to get it sold to a publisher. And on the off chance you do sell it, you then face a sheer cliff in trying to gain your book any attention in today’s marketplace. 

Cara noted a related problem: "I have a chance to do a book with someone who received a lot of media attention recently. The problem is simply that I don’t know if his story is big enough to sustain a book."

Don’t assume that because a situation has received media attention, the stories of the people involved will also. It might, but it doesn’t always happen. I represented Lisa Beamer’s Let’s Roll, a book that hit #1 on the New York Times list – but the media was incredible in those days after 9/11. Lisa was on Larry King more than a dozen times in the year after the tragedy, so her "personal story" resonated with a public eager to learn more about what allowed her to be so poised in the face of such tragegy. On the other hand, I helped Nancy Mankins tell her story, about her missionary husband taken captive and eventually killed by Columbian terrorists. It’s a well-told tale that received tremendous media attention, so it seemed a good risk at the time…but it languished in stores. Even a huge story, with lots of media attention behind it, can fail to capture an audience. And you can bet a personal story without that sort of attention has almost no chance. Lisa was on every TV show on the planet. Her husband Todd was a genuine hero, coining the phrase "Let’s roll!" and undoubtedly helping save lives by participating in a desperate attempt to re-take Flight 93 from terrorist nutjobs. Lisa was standing next to Laura Bush during the President’s address to the nation a few nights later. It was a great American story — but that doesn’t mean anyone is going to be interested in what somebody else was doing on September 11. Let’s face it, we were inundated with crummy books from people who wanted to write poetry about the World Trade Center, tell about getting stuck in the Holland Tunnel, and emote about watching it all on television. Who cares? Hey, Lisa’s book has been written. Find something else.

Jim sent this question: "I have a chance to do a book with a celebrity. Does a project like that really help my writing career?"

I purposefully linked this question to the topic because it illustrates the exception to the rule: If you come across a story that involves celebrity or heavy media attention, you might want to listen to the idea…but don’t fall in love with celebrity. These are about the only personal story books with a chance of actually creating a payday for you, but it’s not automatic. A buddy of mine was approached by a guy who owns a famous chain of fast food restaurants, and was invited to "tell the story" behind their success. He wrote the book, which was self-published and sent to all the franchise owners and managers (plus they sell a few in their restaurants). I don’t believe the book ever made it into bookstores, but the restaurants and personnel combined to make it a profitable venture. Still, it didn’t break out, didn’t really move the writer’s career forward, and didn’t make him a lot of money. So be wary of saying "yes" just because someone is a celebrity. And…well, I happen to know the person you’re talking about is a former professional athlete, and I can tell you first hand that (A) nobody cares one bit about an athlete the moment after he retires, and (B) nearly every professional athlete on the planet is a pompous ass. Sorry. I think it has something to do with being treated as royalty from the time they hit puberty — they don’t live in the same world you and I do. They’ll tell you it’s because of living life in the fishbowl, blah-blah-blah. From my perspective, it’s because they make an obscene amount of money playing a game, soon mistake that for actually having to work for a living, and can never leave behind those heady days when they were heroes and everybody told them how wonderful they were. Be very wary of agreeing to do a book with a former athlete, Jim.

I’ve had more than one person write to ask about "helping my pastor do a book." Again, if you feel God is telling you to do the project…well, He outranks me. But be aware you don’t have to do a book with your pastor just because he (or she) is in a position of authority.  It’s easy to get caught in the trap of "helping" people who have no ability with words — and nothing is more frustrating to a writer.

My solution: If somebody comes up and asks you to "help" them write their book, learn to keep it businesslike: "Well, I charge $300 to review your manuscript, and I’m paid a minimum of $1500 to help you with manuscript development. Which sounds like it would be better for you?" That line, said with all politeness and sincerity, will usually drive away the beggars and wannabes. (And I apologize if it sounds cold…but I approach this as a business, not as "Chip’s Helpful Writing Service for the Poor and Orphaned.") If it doesn’t work for you to help, suggest they get in touch with a professional editorial or critique service — they’ll pay a couple hundred bucks and get lots of good writing advice.

And one additional question: Jim also mentioned he’d been "invited to do a family reunion book" and wanted to know what I thought.

ACK! In the words of medieval cartographers, Here dragons dwell. NEVER take on a "family writing project" if you can possibly help it. These are books done for family reunions, 50th wedding anniversaries, 75th birthdays, and the like. I did two of these, was well paid both times, created two beautiful hardbound books, and proceeded to get yelled at by just about everybody involved. Why? Because the principals are old, and memory is a creative thing. So Grandpa Joe’s recollection of events won’t jibe with Aunt Sarah’s. And Uncle Henry’s reminices about the family might be colored by time (or by Jack Daniels, depending on the family). And you can bet that Cousin Bob ain’t gonna like you revealing that his mama got married in April but had her first baby in October. Yikes. When asked to do one of these, run the other way.

Gee…this all sounds overly negative. The fact is, you may stumble upon a personal story and want to tell it. That’s fine…just be aware that the probability of even a great personal story seeing print is fairly small. Our world is filled with funny, exciting, and hopeful stories of people — they’re just hard to sell in book form these days. If you’re a newer writer looking for good experience, consider interviewing these folks and writing them up in a magazine article. Because while telling these in books is a tough market, the world of magazines and newspapers are filled with great personal stories, usually with a strong undercurrent of humor or romance, and an ending filled with hope and joy. Besides, the process of interviewing, finding a voice, and boiling a long story down to 500 or 1000 words will prove invaluable to your writing future.

Happy writing!

In my last post, I mentioned blogs and sites I like, and I even said I was bound to leave somebody off…so, of course, I left some people off. Brandilyn Collins runs a cool site for novelists called "Forensics and Faith," and my buddy Mary DeMuth runs her "RelevantBlog," which is good. Fortunately they were gracious about it and didn’t call me names. But they did ask for chocolate.

I also had somebody ask if I was going to begin posting poetry — for those not in the know, I’m one of those people who is poetry-immune. Every poet is basically trying to promulgate the same idea ("Look at me — I’m sensitive"), and though I can spot great prose, I have trouble spotting great poetry. That said, I can write some fantastically bad rhyming couplets, which is even better now that I’ve been informed by a poetry professor that rhyming couplets are definitely on the outs with the literatti. That means we need to have a really bad poetry contest. I’ll work on that. I might even award something to the winner…possibly an AUTOGRAPHED, FIRST EDITION copy of "The Y2K Family Survival Guide"!

Speaking of all this reminds me to mention that I like the fact people have been polite in their comments. We just seem to run into a lot of impolite types in this business. You know the type I’m talking about…

-First, there is the author who asks you what you think of her novel, says she really wants you to be honest…then acts offended if you’re not in love with it. I recently sent a very gentle rejection to someone, and her response was to come back and accuse me of being "a phony — just like all those other agents who rejected me." Oh. In other words, if you get rejected by a bunch of literary agents, they’re all wrong and you’re right. And my agreeing with them makes me a phony. Uh-huh. I’m sure she’s got a huge future in publishing.

-Second, there’s the weird guy who follows you around at a writing conference and acts too friendly. He always has a bad book idea, feels compelled to tell you about it every chance he gets, and doesn’t understand the concept of personal space. It’s like being chased by Dr. Weirdness and the Children of Doom.

-Third, there’s the person who acts like you’re her personal assistant. "Here’s my novel — do a review and tell me what you’d change." Um…I don’t represent you. You just sent this in cold. Where does it state that I have to respond to your request? The fact that you’re a writer and I’m an agent does not  automatically mean that I owe you my time.

-Fourth is the guy who insists on a face-to-face meeting. Merely sending you his proposal is not enough. Why is it bad writers always think their work is going to improve if they can explain it? Do they plan to visit each buyer of their book in order to explain their concepts in person? A while back I had a guy call several times and ask for a meeting, eventually mentioning one of my favorite restaurants in town. I agreed…basically because I wanted to eat at the restraurant. At the end of the meal, after listening to what clearly was an unsalable idea, he says to me, "So…shall we split this?" Um…no, we shall not. You called me. You asked for the meeting. You asked me to invest my time in order to get my perspective on your work. This was your meeting. So it’s your responsibility to buy the food — and you shouldn’t have to be told.

There are others, but you get the picture. Politeness counts…which is an odd thought, coming from me, I suppose. I’ve certainly used up more than my share of being impolite. I’ll sometimes be too blunt in an assessment and hurt people’s feelings. I’m not doing that to intentionally would someone, but negative words can be hard to hear. I recently sent a cryptic email to a fellow agent who took it as a rebuke. I hadn’t meant it that way; I was simply offering my thoughts. Email can be a tricky thing at times.

One of the place where agents and publishers have to force themselves to be polite is during contract negotiations. I’m used to simply handling this stuff as business — I don’t get terribly emotional about it. There are notes to work through and discuss, so I go through them, point by point. If, for example, I think an author is getting treated unfairly by a publisher because of some contract clause, I’ll say, "This doesn’t work at all" or "No other publisher is asking for this." And it’ll be the truth. But I’ve noticed, particularly in CBA, some editors get personally hurt over negotiations — as though my criticizing something in their contract is an idictment of them personally. It’s dumb…but it happens. So I have to remind myself to be extra-nice, even though to me this is just a business discussion, not a reflection on anyone’s character.

Anyway, politeness still counts. The successful editors and agents and authors have, by and large, figured this out. So thanks for being nice to me. And for allowing me to rant about this stuff on occasion. I promise to write you a nice poem as my way of saying thanks.

Bad news: I woke up this morning and discovered that Kurt Vonnegut had died. One of a handful of great American novelists who appeared in the 60′s and 70′s (along with the likes of Tom Pynchon, John Barth, and Saul Bellow), he was probably the most influential novelist of young writers in that era. Funny, acerbic, at times wildly inappropriate — well, I loved the man’s writings. Slaughterhouse Five and Cat’s Cradle and Breakfast of Champions were wonderful novels that entertained, educated, and offered a new perspective on the world. Sure, I didn’t always agree with his politics. But the world of writing is a worse place without him.

Good news: A friend of mine sent me an amazing article from the Washington Post. Imagine this: a newspaper takes Joshua Bell, one of the world’s foremost violinists, and plops him into a transit mall to play for passers-by. Nobody recognizes him (well, almost nobody), and only a couple of people have enough of an educated music ear to stop and listen…and be amazed at what they’re hearing. It’s a great story, especially for writers who pour their life into their work, only to discover that word doesn’t get out, maybe the publisher doesn’t work that hard, and sales are slow. That’s life as an artist. Read the article and see what happens to a guy who normally makes $60,000 an hour playing for top echelon audiences. Here’s the link:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html?nav=hcmodule

More good news: There are a bunch of really good bloggers for writers out there in cyberspace, offering wisdom to writers. One of them is Sandra Glahn at Aspire2.blogspot.com. She was just tagged as one of the best "thinking bloggers," and I encourage you to take a look at her work. Other blogs I like are Gina Holmes’ Novel Journey, Lisa Samson’s Author Intrusion, Claudia Burney’s Ragamuffin Diva, J. Mark Bertrand’s blog, and…dang…I’ve probably just left someone off the list, and they’re going to be mad at me. Dave Long’s Faith in Fiction is good, and I like Mick Silva’s blog, even though I don’t always agree with their perspectives. Randy Ingermanson’s site is great. About twice a month I post on a site called The Master’s Artist, and I happen to love it — one of the few sites I check daily (along with the Atlanta Braves, CNN, and Ameritrade). The good news is that there are a bunch of great places to go and learn about writing, to interact with ideas, and to talk books. Check out some of them.

Even more good news: Sherry wrote to ask me if there are any online writing groups I like. There is one: The Writers View, which is a yahoo discussion group. They have a panel of experts (I got on due to a clerical error) who toss out a question twice a week, and you’ve got more than a thousand writers who participate. They’ll talk about everything from editing to book proposals to magazine contracts, and I’ve learned a ton from the participants. The panelists know their stuff (don’t miss the wisdom of Lynn Vincent and Don Otis), not everybody agrees with each other (Cec Murphey is the resident curmudgeon), and  you’ll find it’s a great place to bat around ideas. With that many people, some of the advice is awful, of course, and I get tired of the people who want to over-spiritualize everything ("I write because God told me to!"), but overall this is a wonderful group — the best daily writer’s gathering I’ve ever known. Check it out.

And a last bit of good news: Things are happening in the book world. Some of it is bad (Vonnegut’s death) and some of it good (the last Harry Potter novel is about to release), but this isn’t a static business. Distribution patterns are changing, there is writing content everywhere, and this is truly the Golden Age of publishing. AND every publisher is looking for great writing. So if your desire is to move forward in publishing, focus on becoming a great writer and there could be a future for you.

Mair sent me a quote that I just have to share. It’s from Thomas Merton’s Thoughts in  Solitude, and she tells me it has become known as "Merton’s Prayer." Have a listen:

MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Peace.

-chip

I’ve had several people tell me that I was making a major internet mistake by not responding to the "comments" section of my blog. Sorry. I figured it was just my job to let people say what they like, but apparently I’m also supposed to interact with your comments. From now on I’ll do more of that. In fact, today I’ll respond to a couple questions that were posed on this blog.

Pam wrote to say, "Chip, you agreed it’s pretty much impossible to get picked up in CBA without an agent. Is that the same for children’s/YA authors?"

Nope. I’d say that children’s and YA authors are possible exceptions. It’s  possible to get in the door and have a discusion with a CBA children’s editor even if you don’t have an agent. So if you can figure out how to get in that door, and you know who to talk to once you’re there, and how to create a great proposal, then, no, you may not need an agent. (And I should note that I had several folks send me a link for an editor’s blog that states clearly, "You don’t need an agent to get published." I think he’s fooling himself, since even his own house has a rule about that, but he makes his case by pointing out exceptions to that rule. So, for those who haven’t figured this out in life yet…there are exceptions to almost every rule.)

Elizabeth posted a comment and said, "I tried to submit a proposal to two agents at the Write to Publish Conference in 2005. Both agreed to let me send them my proposal… Is there an etiquette issue or a length of time problem with still sending them my proposal?"

Well, let’s see…the 2007 Write to Publish Conference is coming up in just a couple months, so it will have been two years since you spoke to those agents. That’s too long to reasonably expect someone to remember your proposal, Elizabeth. My advice would be to either send them each an email query, reminding them that they asked to see your work, or skip the whole thing and just go see them again in a couple months and start fresh, since they may very well ask the question, "It took you two years to send this to me?"

Polly wrote and noted, "I read on a blog that agents and publishers are more likely to accept submissions if an author has paid to have his or her work edited before submitting. After attempting to polish my novels over and over without success, I find that fascinating. I’m almost tempted to put my hard-earned dollars toward this idea, but I don’t know if it would really help me get my foot in the door."

My response: You should do everything you can to make your submission the very best it can be. Write and re-write. Get advice from experienced authors. If you find critique groups helpful, join one and seek their input. If there is a good editor you trust, and you think you might learn something from his or her comments on your manuscript, by all means consider hiring that editor to help you with your work. My experience is that we all have myopia when it comes to our own work, and a good editor can often find the issues that we’ve overlooked or been unwilling to change. It’s not necessary, of course — not every writer needs to race out and hire an editor. But if you’re stuck, it can be a great method for getting unstuck.

Someone wrote to me and asked my opinon of self-publishing: "Do you think it looks like an ego problem?"

It depends on the project. I need to do a post on self-pubbing sometime, since there are a host of issues involved with that. The problem is that some self-published manuscripts are really awful — they were turned down by regular royalty-paying publishers for a reason. So self-publishing a bad manuscript in order to prove a point, or to impress an agent, or so that you can tell your mom "I got my book published" is a horrible idea. Yes, it looks like a case of small-talent/big-ego. However, if you’ve got a good book that simply appeals to a niche market, and you’ve got a method for actually selling the books once you’ve got them stored in your garage, then there’s certainly nothing wrong with self-pubbing. I’ve self-published some books and done well with them — but they were for a specific audience (card magicians), the book was professionally written and edited, and most importantly I knew how to sell them. Without that, you’ve just got a lot of dead trees.

One poor unfortunate (who says she likes my blog but wants to remain nameless — probably for that very reason) wrote and asked, "What’s the protocol for sending out queries or proposals to agents — can I only send to one at a time? And if you get multiple agents asking to look at your proposal, what steps do you take to ensure that you do the right thing?"

Hmmm…sounds like this must be from someone who had a great experience at a writer’s conference! Okay, there’s some debate about this from agents, but I’ll give you my take on it: I think it’s fine to send out queries to more than one agent. (Whereas I’d only send out a proposal if the agent asked for it.) Sure, if your idea is any good, then every agent would prefer to be the only one looking at your idea. But I see no problem with asking more than one agent to look at your work. An agent is going to take your finished proposal and show it to several publishers — why should the agents be treated any differently? And if you’re at, say, a big writer’s conference, you show an idea around, and you get several agents asking you to send it to them, my advice would be to spend time talking with those agents. Get to know them a bit before sending them something. You don’t want just any agent representing you. This is a business relationship — you want someone you like, someone you percieve as competent, someone you wouldn’t mind working with over the long haul. So if you met an agent that seemed oily, or there was some guy there who made you uncomfortable, don’t send it. Even if he asked. On the other hand, if there were three agents who you liked, and they all wanted to see it, I don’t see anything wrong with talking to all three of them. You’re comparison shopping. No harm in that.

That does bring up an odd situation I’ve seen played out several times… Why is it that an agent can turn down proposals from writers all week, but if you turn the agent down, they get whiny? I don’t know. I’ve had similar things with publishers — they’ve turned down several proposals I’ve sent them, and never had a second thought about saying "no" to me, but then act pissy when they finally make an offer on something and lose it to a better offer from another house. Maybe that’s just human nature.

Speaking of writing conferences, Dean wrote to ask me, "What does it mean if an editor says to me, ‘Sure, send me your proposal’ at a writer’s conference?"

Um…that’s a difficult question to answer. The Happy Chip would respond by saying, "What great news! It means the editor liked your work enough to take a more in-depth look at it. Go buy yourself a Guinness to celebrate, make a clean copy, and send it off. "  The Dour Chip would say, "Editors do that all the time at writer’s conferences because they get fatigued telling people ‘no’ all the time, or they want to be liked by everyone, or they’re just big weenies. Go ahead and sent it, but don’t hold your breath — the vast majority of stuff that comes in from writer’s conferences sits around for two or three months, then gets rejected anyway." The truth? Both, most likely. It’s great that you’re getting looked at, so celebrate. But don’t be putting money down on that new Maserati just yet.

I was at a writer’s conference a year or so ago, and had several authors come up to me to say, "The editor at XYZ Publishing said she loves my work and wants me to send it, AND thinks you should look at it for representation!" After hearing that same sentence repeatedly, I finally went to the editor and asked her what she was saying to authors. Her response: "I simply told them the idea had promise, and we’d look at the idea if it came from an agent like Chip MacGregor." Okay…maybe she sounded a bit more enthusiastic when she actually used the words with authors, but I figured out the basic pattern: Editor sounds vaguely positive, author hears the words and turns it into something definitely positive, it gets reported to me and morphs again into something extremely positive. Yikes…made for some awkward moments when I had to explain to people that, even though they considered themselves on the cusp of the next big publishing deal, I was going to decline the opportunity.

Hey, writer’s conferences are great. But there’s a fatigue that sets in with the faculty, making them more susceptible to saying "okay send it" when they really ought to be saying, "I think your idea has some merit, but we’re probably not going to publish it." The problem is that people have paid a lot of money and want some positives — and it’s hard to give positives when you’re basically saying "no thanks." That’s a struggle I have at conferences — I want to help writers, but "helping" probably does not equate "representation." Maybe if we all reviewed our expectations a bit, that would help resolve the problem. Because, realistically, most authors are not going to go to a writer’s conference and sign with a publisher or agency. Instead, they’re going to go and make friends, hear a ton of great information, and enjoy getting away from the real world and into the book world for a short season.

Keep those cards and letters coming!

Happy Good Friday! Today is a day we remember the sacrifice of Jesus Christ for all of us, and celebrate our life in Him.

It’s also a day I answer questions, so here goes a bunch of "agenty" questions I’ve been sent…

Dana wrote to ask, "I was told I can’t sell my book in CBA any more without an agent. Is that true?"

More or less, that’s true. Most of the houses have instituted policies requesting authors to send them their proposals through an agent. It professionalizes the relationship, takes a bit of the emotion out of the process, and moves the task of skimming the dross from publishing houses onto literary agents. Of course, I think it’s still possible to find a deal with a publisher without an agent, but it’s considerably harder than it used to be. To use an analogy, think of it as trying to sell a home — realtors have pushed state legislators to pass so many requirements that it’s a daunting task just to fill out the paperwork on the sale of your house. Four times we’ve sold homes, Patti and I have used a realtor. But we’ve sold another four homes by owner, working to make the place presentable , buying our own ads and hosting our own open houses, so it’s still possible to do that — just a bit more difficult. It’s the same with selling a manuscript — if you have a great idea, you’ve put together a solid proposal, you have established a good platform for yourself, and you work to get a face-to-face appointment with an editor where you can pitch your idea, it’s still a possibility. It’s a lot of work, but it’s do-able.  Still…consider what you want handled by a professional. When I wanted a will, I didn’t use one of those free online downloads to do it. I felt it was an important enough process that I went to a lawyer and had a professional create it. When I was setting up my retirement account I did some of the investments on my own, but I also used a professional to set up and manage the bulk of it. Ask yourself if you have the knowledge, time, and desire to manage your book contracts and your publishing career.

One nameless individual sent me a note that said, "My agent won’t tell me who she sent my proposal to. She also doesn’t show me the rejection notices. Is that normal?"

Not showing rejection notices is normal. You need to understand that the days of editors sending long rejections detailing the perceived issues with a manuscript went out with the Johnson Administration. It’s not uncommon to get a brief email that says, "No thanks" or "We looked at this and we’re not going to pursue it." In other words, there’s not much value in my forwarding those notes to one of my authors, unless I want to drive her into depression and a possible drinking binge. (On the rare times I receive a thoughtful reply, with notes on how the manuscript could be improved, I try to always pass those along to the author.) However, I’ll admit I don’t know why an agent wouldn’t show you a list of who’s looking. I mean…it’s your proposal, so I wouldn’t think that would be a secret. You may want to ask your agent what the reasoning is behind that decision.

Stan (who he notes "is not my real name") wrote and asked, "Can an agent help me plan the marketing for my book?"

First, let’s note that "Stan" is a really weak fake name. I mean, if you’re going to write me with a fake name, put some thought into it and create something memorable. Maybe "Fiona" or "Mephibosheth." "Stan" is just plain dull. But on to your question: Normally an agent can help you think through some of the marketing, maybe even help you plan it or oversee pieces of the marketing plan. But a literary agent is different from a publicist or a marketing manager. As the author, YOU are most responsible or marketing your book, so don’t leave that up to your agent, your publisher, your sales staff, your publicist, your mom, or anyone else. YOU are in charge of marketing. Nobody knows the book better than you, nobody has more invested in it, and nobody is more committed to its success than you.

Another one of those fake named people ("Mephibosheth"), wrote to say, "I haven’t heard from my agent in six months. Is that unusual?"

My response: Um…really? Six months? Well, to each his own. (Or "her" own, depending on the sex of Mephibosheth.) The biggest complaint people have about their agent is generally "lack of contact." Everybody wants to be in touch with their agent. And I guess everybody’s work style is different. I represent a couple authors I speak to every week. I also have a couple authors I have to call every month or so, since they are so low-key I want to make sure they’re still breathing. Perhaps you and your agent aren’t on the same track (though I think six months is a bit much). My suggestion would be that you contact him or her and talk about expectations. Make sure you both can live with the amount of communication you have. And remember that you’re probably not the only client your agent represents, so be willing to understand his or her business and adjust your thinking a bit. 

And I swear I’m not making this one up — I had someone write to say, "I sent you my proposal three months ago! What’s wrong? I need an answer."

So, um, I gave him one. I won’t share my exact words, but it had to do with a cliff, and the author going there to jump off it. Good grief, learn to be polite. I never mind an author checking in with me. ("Hi Chip – I haven’t heard from you in a while, and I was just wondering if you had any updates for me. Have you heard from anyone?") That’s part of the business. But I have a different reaction when somebody presumes that I owe them a response just because they saw my name in a book somewhere and decided to write to me. What do I owe this guy? I didn’t ask him to write me. I didn’t invite him to send me his stupid proposal. Where does it say I even owe him a response? Man…politeness still counts.

Daiva (a name I’d not heard before, but I like) wrote me a note and asked, "What is the main reason you choose to accept or reject an author?"

An interesting question. The "rejection" part is easy: Most of the people whose projects I reject are not turned down because I don’t like them, or because they’re unknowns, or even because I dislike their ideas. Most authors are turned down because THEY CAN’T WRITE. Simple as that. Not all, of course. I just saw a very good nonfiction idea, but I’m already trying to sell a similar project and felt it would be unethical to take on something so close. And with the advent of so many good writing resources, I’m often seeing novels that are well-done, but not of the knock-my-socks-off quality. Still, I get sent some really crummy stuff. Bad ideas. Projects where the author doesn’t speak English. Proposals written in crayon (presumably because the wardens won’t let them play with anything sharp). I hesitate sharing some of them, since I’m always afraid I’m going to really tick off someone who sent me an idea they thought was brilliant, and I found laugh-out-loud bad. But…

I just got in a proposal for a book called something like "How to Make Out With Girls." The author was either thirteen or stopped growing emotionally and intellectually at thirteen. (From the tenor of his advice, he was not writing from experience.) I received a proposal I thought was a joke, until I checked it out and discovered the guy was serious — a novel about a boy who falls asleep and wakes up as…Harry Potter! Hey! I’m sure Scholastic is going to allow that to get published. And some guy just sent me the very unique idea of turning the Book of Revelation into a novel! Wow — why hadn’t somebody thought of that one before? (The best part — he says he’s going to use his novel to correct all the theological errors in Left Behind. A fabulous idea. Sort of combination novel/theological treatise/literary critique. Could be a whole new genre!)

Most of us keep a "dark file" — the worst of the worst crap we’re sent. They’re fun to pull out and look at after a bad day, just to remember that, somewhere in the world, there is someone even dumber than me. Years ago I got a full-color proposal for a book about Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer’s second cousin. Um…without going into the gory details, you should know that his nose didn’t glow — his rear-end did. (Really. And no, I have no idea why. Rudolph’s nose lit the way for Santa during a bad storm. I don’t know what his cousin’s glowing butt did…maybe give Santa a tan?) Anyway, the proposal even came with a t-shirt, which I took home so my kids could wear it and share the blessing.

Of course, the author probably sold it to somebody. You gotta love this business. Back to the question — you wanted to know the main reason I agree to represent an author. It’s because I like their writing. And I like them (this life being too short to work with jerks). And I either like their idea or I like their writing enough to believe they’re going to come up with a great idea. Sorry to make it sound so simple, but it’s the truth. If we meet at a conference and I like your work, think I’d be a good fit for it, and you come across as a (relatively) normal soul, I’m apt to explore representation with you. But I’m picky about the writing I like — I have to be, since it’s how I make my living. And for years I’ve made a pretty good living with my writing judgment. It doesn’t mean I’m always right (I’ve whiffed on a couple projects that turned out to be huge), but I’m reasonably secure in my own judgment ability with writing. I see some bad writing. I see a lot of okay writing. But I see little great writing…and you can check out my web site to find some writers offering great writing.

I’ve said it before: If you want to be published, the best thing you can do is to become a great writer. I don’t know any great writers who are unpublished.

Happy Easter! He is Risen!