Archive for July, 2007

The Wisdom of the Ages

July 28th, 2007 | Deep Thoughts | 13 Comments

Tammy wrote in to ask, "When an editor at a newspaper or magazine hands you a topic and tells you to write a story, where do you begin?" The is closely related to Dave’s question: "When writing a book, where do you begin to find your information?’

The easiest way, of course, is to simply make them up. Specifically, create a name and a bunch of quotes. Make sure the name sounds vaguely academic ("V. Pennington Longbottom" works better than "Dan Smith.") Stick in some phony facts, making sure to use "actual" numbers (saying "9482 people believe Hillary Clinton is really Ted Kennedy in a wig" is much more believable than saying "nearly ten thousand people believe…") If anyone questions your sources, immediately attack them as heretics.

Another thing that works well is to generalize: "EVERYBODY KNOWS that literary agents are more trustworthy than publishers." The goal is to try and make people who disagree feel stupid.

In a pinch, citing Bible verses also helps. For example, you can say, "As the prophet Fiorello says in Formica 2:2, ‘Only the good die young.’" (Note to Biblicists: You can also simply misquote a verse, like the people in CBA who use "Publish Glad Tidings" on their stationery, as though it were a reference to publishing books in 21st Century America. That sort of establishes a link between you and God in the minds of the readers. Trust me on this.)

In addition you can make your quotes close, even if they aren’t exactly correct. Or even germane. I once read a review of one of the 762 anti-DaVinci Code books that appeared on religious bookstore shelves in recent years, and the reviewer used these words: "As Jesus is claimed to have said, ‘Be still and know that I am God.’ If only his modern-day disciples would follow his advice." Ha! Yeah, it’s a cute line. The only problem is that it’s entirely stupid. First, Jesus didn’t say those words — that’s a line from the Psalms, as any idiot with a bible and a concordance would discover if he put two minutes of research into his work. Second, the words have absolutely nothing to do with the topic at hand…but what should that matter to a writer who wants to get a cheap laugh? Actual facts mean nothing to, say, Michael Moore — why should they mean anything to me?

Next, be sure to use the word "obvious" a lot: "When looking at the state of publishing today, it’s OBVIOUS that Tim LaHaye is a better writer than John Steinbeck. What has Steinbeck written in the past ten years?"

Also, make sure to be as vague as possible. Cite big names but don’t offer any details to actually support your facts. As Mark Twain once said, "I don’t need facts if I have a dynamite story." (see? It works!)

I serendipitously suggest you use really big words. Even if you don’t know their meaning. It will make you look antedilluvian.

You may want to claim you have supernatural powers. For Christians, the gift of prophecy is particularly helpful. If you can routinely end sentences with the words "…in accordance with prophecy," you’ve got a bright future in religious publishing. And if anyone doubts you, simply pronounce a curse on him or her.

Above all, feign shock whenever anyone questions your integrity. This has worked extremely well for Peter Popoff, Robert Tilton, Jimmy Swaggert, Benny Hinn, and numerous others. I once watched some of Brother Benny’s boys take the arm of an elderly lady, move her to the front of the auditorium, and seat her in a wheel chair, all the while explaining, "Brother Benny feels the Lord wants you right down front…why look! There are no chairs left. Here — just sit in this wheelchair until we find you a regular seat." They never found it, apparently…but Brother Benny certainly found HER, and during the show got her to stand up and dance in front of the crowd, who was fooled into believing the old gal had actually SHOWN UP in the wheelchair. They doubtless went home happy and blessed, knowing in their hearts that all was well in the world of snakeoil evangelism. (I got to ask Benny about it later. He couldn’t BELIEVE such a thing had happened. In the spirit of Major Renault– "I’m shocked, SHOCKED to find that gambling is going on here!" — Brother Benny was shocked, SHOCKED to find that humbug was going on here. There were real people who had come in wheelchairs that night, by the way. They all sat to the right of the stage. Brother Benny never made it over to that side. Probably an oversight.)

Trust me, if anyone questions you, be SHOCKED. Michael Vick was SHOCKED to learn there was dogfighting going on at his home in Virginia. Barry Bonds was SHOCKED to learn the guys at BALCO were giving athletes steroids. Tim Donaghywas SHOCKED to discover his calls as an NBA referee would influence games and help gamblers. Alberto Contador was SHOCKED to learn there was blood doping going on at the Tour de France. Hillary Clinton was SHOCKED to find the supposedly lost Rose Law Firm records to be, um, in her own closet. It’s an effective strategy.

There you have it — the wisdom of the ages.

Your Attention Please

July 24th, 2007 | Proposals, Resources for Writing | 17 Comments

You wouldn’t believe the stupid ideas that get sent me. I’ve tried really hard not to present too many of them here on this blog, since I don’t want to hurt the feelings of those sincere-yet-misguided souls who feel God led them to send me their crummy book idea. I’m always afraid that some nice Baptist boy is going to send me a proposal for a book his mother told him was excellent, but then he’s going to see me making fun of it on my blog, become agitated and — I don’t know…Attend a dance or something. Maybe order a beer with his burger. Even (gasp!) check out the latest Harry Potter book in order to start casting spells on me. Still, sometimes the bad ideas come in and grab my attention, so that I just can’t help from being snarky.

Like, um, the guy who recently sent me Harry Potter Visits Vedaland, an interesting romp about the boy wizard apparently becoming a Hindu and having merry mixups in India, including jumping in the Ganges with his clothes on. I pondered explaining the minor legal problems the author might run into, stealing one of the best-selling characters in publishing history in order to promote Eastern mysticism. But I didn’t. Instead, I sent the proposal to my friend and fellow agent Steve Laube, with a comment that I was too busy, but a man of his fine tastes would appreciate the deep wisdom contained, etc.

Other recent proposals incude a lesbian’s guide to God, someone wanting to know if God speaks through farm animals, and a project entitled "Naked Poker" that I didn’t feel old enough to actually examine. All of these made me think of the late, lamented Miss Snark — a literary agent who had a great blog on blogspot for a couple years. She retired from blogging earlier this year, sad to say, leaving devoted fans like myself to have to wade through old posts in order to get a laugh. If you’re in the mood, feel free to check out the old ones by googling "Miss Snark." (And, so long as I’m tossing out compliments, make sure to drop by Mike Hyatt’s blog, since he admitted to actually reading my last one, and he’s now my closest and dearest friend in the business. Gina Holmes’ Novel Journey site is good too, and she is no doubt also my closest and dearest friend in the business. So is anybody else who publicly admits to reading my miscellaneous meanderings.)

Anyway, bad proposals lead me to think of bad writing. And Dave wrote to ask me, "What’s the worst thing you’ve ever seen in a proposal?" The worst thing may have been the time an author included a nude photo of himself. It was tipped into a proposal on gambling, and didn’t have anything to do with the book idea, so I figured either the author (a) had made a bad  author / agent protocol error, or (b) mistakenly thought I was "the gambling gay agent," or (c) was simply proud of his gambling equipment, if you get my meaning. But here’s an interesting item: I was once handed a novel proposal that opened with the words, "Ring! Ring! said the telephone."

Barf! Barf! said the agent.

Continuing on that writing track, Cindy #1 wrote to ask, "How do I begin to find my voice as a writer?" Cindy, do you remember the scene in the movie "Finding Forrester" where Sean Connery gives his young protege a first paragraph from an old article, then tells him to finish writing it? That’s a good way to begin thinking about voice. Think about what you sound like, what others around you sound like, and what you want to sound like. Sometimes inspiration and voice are found by exploring others’ work. When I read Garrison Keillor’s Leaving Home, it helped me find my voice for writing stories about growing up in Witch Hazel, Oregon. (Okay…it’s a snotty sort of nasal voice, but still, it’s a voice.) Same was true when I read Flannery O’Connor’s Everything That Rises Must Converge. It happened again when I read Ricky Bragg’s All Over But the Shoutin. There was imitation in my writing, at least for a while. But what’s wrong with imitation? It allows us to try on a different voice, until we figure out what our own voice sounds like.

I once read that Joan Didion learned to write by retyping Hemingway. It gave her a feel for flow, dialogue, and the rhythm of words. In a biography of the Beatles, I once read George Harrison claim that their early music was little more than a way of copying Chuck Berry, and he noted that all of their music was "derivative," having been built on the musicians who influenced them. Writing works that same way. If you took writing classes at a college in the US, you were probably influenced by the style of Sherwood Anderson, even if you don’t know who he is. You asked how to begin — that’s a great way to begin. Look at writing that moves you, that helps you grow, that sounds like you. Find a writer who writes the way you want to write. Or take the opening of someone else’s piece and complete it. That’s a good place to start. In time, you’ll begin to find your own voice.

Cindy #2 wrote to ask, "Who are the authors who have influenced you the most?" In terms of just enjoying their writing, it would be Tom Pynchon, Mark Twain, Haven Kimmel, Ross Thomas…there may be too many to count. Among contemporary writers, I like the storytelling ability of Rick Bragg. If we were to talk about old timers, I’m still a huge fan of Mark Twain and John Steinbeck. In the more little-known world of Christian writing, I love the work of Lauren Winner and Brennan Manning. And, if I can say this without it sounding like a commercial, I’m a fan of all the writers I represent. I keep it a fairly small list, since I want to work with people who can actually write, but take a look at the novels of Lisa Samson and Penelope Wilcock and Susan Meissner and Bette Nordberg. Good writers all.

What You Come Here For

July 16th, 2007 | CBA, Trends | 14 Comments

Kristy wrote to me regarding my recent post about ICRS and said, "Tell us about the books! Fiction. Trends. Things to watch. The scoop."

Clearly Kristy has been watching Fox News again. Short. Snappy. Punchy. A desire for the latest.

Okay… The Irresistable Revolution by Shane Claiborn is hot. So is Bryan Welch’s Save Me From Myself (a book from the former Korn member). Rob Bell’s Sex God. Immaculee Ilabagiza’s Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust. Lots of emergent titles. Every publisher is trying to find the next Donald Miller, a young Anne Lamott, and an emergent Lee Strobel.

There was a lot of patriotic stuff. Flags and soldiers and images of America abounded. Lots of books with the word "now." (You can’t just lose weight or grow in grace or learn a skill — you just do so now.)

Hot people included Tony Dungy (football coach), Don Piper (90 Minutes author), and Shaunti Feldhahn (For Women Only). People still are embracing John Eldredge, Francine Rivers, and Rick Warren. Everyone gained a new respect for Lauren Winner, continued to wonder what to do with people like Cameron Conant and Matthew Paul Turner, and got worried about the number of prosperity books. N.T. Wright and Brian McLaren continue to make a splash. Erwin McManus continues to have interesting things to say. Brennan Manning is coming out with his memoir at, of all places, Cook Communications…leading everyone to believe that this company is on the rise. Everybody discovered novelist Tim Downs, began to notice Joel Rosenberg, and renewed their interest in both Francine Rivers and Jerry Jenkins. Ted Dekker is still wowing them, as is Bev Lewis (though her books are considerably more peaceful).

Trends would include more fiction, more varieties of fiction, more contemporary fiction, and more realistic depictions in fiction. And lots more "fun" fiction. Nice to see people agree to have a sense of humor occasionally. Other trends would include lots of spiritual memoir, a focus on creative packaging, and considerably more openess in authors telling their own stories. There was certainly more creative nonfiction on the shelves, fewer childrens’ books, and a much broader faith basis among the nonfiction titles.

The biggest trend I saw in publishing? The growth of literary agents, who apparently breed like rabbits. Tons of agents — maybe more agents than authors at the show, and several of them were, in my own humble opinion, lacking in experience. (I had two agents ask me for help figuring out who to show a project to. Um…a good agent would have a clue.)

Oh…and some big news: Mike Hyatt reads my blog! It’s true. The Prez of Thomas Nelson told me so his own self. How ’bout them apples?

That help?

Food, Faith, and Footwear

July 13th, 2007 | CBA | 20 Comments

I’m just back from the giant Christian book show (formerly the "Christian Booksellers Association," now the "International Christian Retailers Show"). It was light on books this year, and heavy on Christian Crud (from my point of view). It was also light on people and sales, apparently, so they say big changes are due.

A few years ago, the people who run the show decided to stick all the publishers in the same section, so that it was easy to see who the actual book publishers were and what they were selling. That notion is now out the window, as publishers on the convention floor were dispersed so much it sometimes appeared as though I was at a gift show instead of a convention whose main profits are derived from the printed word. You had to hunt to find actual books this year, buried amidst the ties, jewelry, art, choir robes, and footwear (more on that in a moment).

Word is the publishers are sick of this trend, and are planning to stage their own book show next year — which will be interesting, but may not be successful. If you’re running a small Christian gift shop, do you pay to attend two conventions? Probably not, so you have to decide if you’ll go see books, or keep visiting the old standard convention where you’re sure to run into longtime friends as well as be able to actually handle the clothing and art (since it’s harder to see those on a computer screen).  You figure the book reps will still come calling, and the catalogs will still show up in the mail. A tough call.

On top of that, CBA has announced the death of their mid-winter show, which was called "CBA Expo" (also known as "The Frozen Wasteland," since it attracted almost no one but made up for it by offering attendees such fun-filled attractions as "The Frigid, Ice-covered Sidewalks of Indianapolis" display each January). The guys in charge say they’re going to have a big gathering next year at that same time, but there will be no displays and no convention floor. I guess they’ll have speakers and selling seminars, maybe try to focus on media with authors. Beats me. I have no idea what a couple hundred religious retailers are going to do for fun in Indy during winter. Maybe host a big, non-alcoholic cocktail party? A hymn sing? A wholesome snowball fight? The organization deserves points for trying something new, but I couldn’t find a single person at this summer’s convention who could figure out what the mid-year show is going to be, or why the organization expects anyone to attend. Should be an interesting discussion in the Colorado headquarters.  ("Hey, Mickey — let’s put on a show! A real, old-fashioned magic show with balloons and dancing girls…but we’ll do it in the coldest city on earth, the balloons will all have ‘John 3:16′ printed on them, and the girls will be dressed in modest jumpsuits while handing out tracts that display our new gospel footwear!")

Can’t wait. Lest you think I’m a total cynic, I actually enjoy the ICRS convention. I get to see old friends, spend time with authors I represent, and get face-to-face with editors and publishers with whom I do business. There are fun times with authors, good dinners with book people, and the occasional surprise (I once got stuck in an elevator with Jim Baker — the guy who was married to Tammy Faye and went to prison…I’m not kidding. He was short. I’m not that big, and I towered over him. I wanted to ask him if he would contribute to my TV ministry, but I didn’t know if he had a sense of humor). The highlights this year included seeing some of my authors’ faces on giant billboards (Mair Burney, Ginger Garrett), having several friends get tapped as finalists for major awards (way to go Lisa Samson!), and spending a lovely evening with Tony Collins, the publisher at Monarch and a man who happens to be married to the wonderful British novelist Penelope Wilcock. The whole thing is back to back meetings, talking about books, and if you’re a book guy like me, you just love it. But, at the same time, each year I try to find the worst, most bile-inducing piece of religious crud at the show. There are always some doozies.

Last year it was the famous "Armor of God Pajamas," which say "Righteousness" across the chest and feature a "Helmet of Salvation" nightcap and "Peace" footies. They were fun, cute, and completely stoopid. (I also hold a warm spot in my heart for the Gospel Golf Balls, which are just normal golf balls except they have Bible verses printed on them — that way you don’t have to fret over losing a ball on the course, because in the immortal words of the sales woman, "You just chalk it up to helping spread the Good News.") The year before it was the "genuine ash from Sodom and Gomorrah" display, which is sure to teach you never to invite your gay friends over unless you’ve checked the pressure on your fire extinguisher.

This year had some real weiners — er, I mean "winners." I liked the "New Life Gummie Caterpillars," which teach young children the joys of salvation as well as getting them addicted to sugar. Speaking of sugar, "Scripture Candy" was back, along with their slogan: "Reaching the World…One Piece at a Time." (Nope. I’m not making that up.) For those of a more natural bent, you could just buy holy honey — "Bee-lieve Honey" was there. The woman running the booth was extremely, um, sweet. Oh, and somebody came up with the notion of doing a Christian version of MySpace, only they promised it would be cleaned up ("No Britney Spears," the sales guy told me), and of course they gave it the spiritual name "THY Space." Gag.

But it was footwear department that really captured me this year. First, there was the "Not Of This World Footwear Company," reminding us of that great truth: "If you want to witness to the world, have religious symbols imbedded on your shoes" (from the Book of Formica 3:13). The shoes were actually of a nice design — but do we need inspirational sayings on everything? Can’t we just have clothing that doesn’t say anything? (Answer: "No. You’re obviously an idiot. God expects everything from underwear to shoes to have religious slogans on them. That’s why He invented ‘Praise Panties.’")

Second, there was the company that invented insoles that also have Scripture vereses printed on them. Why? So that we can joke about "walking the way of the Lord?" Of course not! It’s so that we can all be "Standing On the Promises"! (It’s a hymn! One of those insider Christian jokes we all like so well, and that so endear us to those outside the church who sometimes think we’ve lost our collective minds.) Right now YOU could be standing on the promises (For example, the promise that "thou shalt never have bunions" — Hez. 3:13) instead of sitting in the chair like a heathen lout. (You never heard anybody read any verses about "sitting on the statutes" did you? I’ll bet not — praise panties or no.)

But when it comes to cheesy religious footwear, the champ has got to be the In-Souls company. (In-Souls! Get it?) For years I’ve made a joke about the demeaning of CBA. As we’ve moved away from being an industry focused on creating great books, and toward an organization looking to move things like Thomas Kinkade postcards and Jesus soap-on-a-rope, I’ve said, "If you can get past the gospel ties and the John 3:16 socks…", and of course I meant it as a gag. Faithful readers have heard me use that line (to appropriate laughter) for the last decade. But it was a joke! A laugher! Nobody would really create John 3:16 socks, right?

Wrong, oh ye of faithless footwear. For at this convention, some bright boy stole my idea! No kidding. There they were, in all their glory: John 3:16 socks! Footies that have "John 3:16" on the roll and the words on the body of the sock. Glory! I have seen the light, and it is footwear!

chip

"And lo, the salesclerk appeared in a bright light, singing praise to Bally and saying, ‘Espadrille!’, which is Greek for ‘Glory’ or maybe ‘rope-sole-with-canvas-uppers.’ And suddenly, the clerk was surrounded by a great cloud of clerks, all carrying Prada and Bruno Magli, though they had pumps and not the loafers I wanted. And the store did carry Allen Edmonds. And they did have it in my size. And it was good. And he placed the shoehorn in my hand and said, "Take. Wear." And I took. And I wore. And it was comfortable. In fact, they gave me no blisters. A miracle."   –The Kiltie Gospel

Ten Laws for Critique Groups

July 6th, 2007 | Resources for Writing | 6 Comments

I happen to be a huge fan of critique groups, and have participated in several until I moved or they wised up and threw me out. The experience has taught me a few principles for getting the most out of the group. My ten laws for critique groups:

1. Ask yourself why you want a group. What do you hope to get out of it? You ought to have clear expectations going in, so that you’ve got some way to evaluate the benefits to your writing later. Some people basically want to hang out with writers — more or less the same reason they attend writing conferences. There’s nothing wrong with that, and if that’s your reason for joining, you should easily find a group that meets your needs. Others really want a dedicated group of professional writers to take a careful look at their material. If that’s what you’re after (and, being a reader of this blog, which is aimed more or less at writers, I figure that’s the majority of people reading this little missive), you’re going to need to put a lot more thought into your group.

2. The value of a critique group is based almost entirely on the membership. So look for people who are at your level or maybe just a bit better than you (if your ego can take it), and talk to them about the group. People need to know what the commitment will be (a weekly or maybe twice-a-month meeting that lasts a couple hours), what the expectations are (that members will actually read the other member’s writings before coming to a meeting), and what the benefit is to them ("You will hear advice for improving your writing").

3. Invite people to participate. Don’t put an announcement in the local newspaper or an invitation in the church bulletin. You’ll get the hangers-on, the wannabes, and, very possibly, members of my family. One of the maxims of organization is that people perform at the level to which they are recruited. If you tell people, "This is an open time for anyone to attend," you’re going to get bad poets, unteachable storytellers, and the "I’m-in-pain-so-let-me-share-my-angst" types. If you go directly to people you know have some talent for writing and invite them to particpate, you’ll attract a much better quality of participant.

4. At one of your first meetings, set some guidelines. These can be fairly simple: We expect you to come if you’re in town. You need to submit your writing to others at least every other month. You commit to read the words of the others in the group before the meeting. You will offer constructive advice, not just negative criticism. You have to be willing to listen to everyone, even if you disagree with their opinion. (And this is the perfect time to quote Jim Bishop: "A good writer is not, per se, a good book critic. No more than a good drunk is automatically a good bartender.")

5. Make sure the group has a leader. Without a ramrod, a critique group can turn into nothing more than a sharing time, since nobody wants to jump into the job of telling the poet how awful his work is. Or it can turn into a theraphy session for the most needy in the bunch. Get a leader, and let him or her push the agenda.

6. Creative, artsy writers need a regular meeting time and place. A schedule offers discipline to the group. (And yes, you all disagree with me, since you’re all creative, artsy types. So sue me. You probably also like William Faulkner, even though he is boring and pretentious, but your college writing professor insisted he was deep, and since you want to appear deep too, you tell people at parties that you "loved Soldier Pay but thought As I Lay Dying lacked focus," or some such tripe. Your group will meet at Starbucks once, at your house a few weeks later, then you’ll skip six months, gather for dinner somewhere, and forget all about it.) Just set a time and place and skip the nonsense.

7. Insist participants listen to criticism. Scottish people have a saying: Learn to unpack a rebuke. There’s no point in joining a critique group if you spend all your time defending your writing. So have a rule that you must listen to people’s ideas and criticisms of your work, even if you’re going to ignore all their insipid, Neanderthal advice. (Jarrell once wrote, "It’s always hard for poets to believe that one says their poems are bad not because one is a friend, but because their poems are bad.") In looking back at these rules, you may just want to simply them to something more practical, like "All poets will be shot."

8. Everybody gets a turn. Membership in a critique group dictates that you’ll listen to other’s perspectives on your writing. It’s good for you — even if you often don’t agree. Writing is an art, and art is open to interpretation. Hearing another’s opinions can cause growth in your own life. Of course, there’s nothing worse than being in a group with one guy you really don’t like, or don’t respect his lousy writing, and listen to him drone on for a half hour about "what’s wrong with writing these days." But sometimes listening to people who have very different politics, theology, or life experiences can be extremely enlightening. If you find people who are at your level, both in terms of quality and experience in writing, you’ll find yourself much more interested in the comments and criticisms.

9. Find a person in the group who you trust. Identify one person, maybe two, who you will listen to. That way, you’ve always got a trusted advisor. So when she says to you, "I know you love medical mysteries, but I question your use of including each character’s dental records in your story," you’ll know she isn’t criticizing your work just to build herself up. This is your friend. She loves you. She’s only saying it because she wants you to improve your story. That one person will make you better, and you’ll find yourself becoming a much better critiquer of others and member of the group. Really.

10. Insist people write. I was once in a critque group where people argued about the merits of Left Behind and debated which trends were hot in independent bookstores, but never really got around to writing anything. So write something. Each time you meet. Insist others do the same. Submit that work ahead of the meeting so that everyone can read it and tell you how awful it is. (Or tell you how wonderful it is, depending on how they’re feeling that day.)

"They’re fancy talkers about themselves, writers. If I had to give young writers advice, I would say don’t listen to writers talk about writing. Or themselves."   – Lilian Hellman

I’m off to ICRS in Atlanta. Try to stay cool…

chip

What drives you crazy?

July 2nd, 2007 | Resources for Writing, The Writing Craft | 13 Comments

Back from soggy Scotland (just missed the terrorist attack on Glasgow airport by a few hours) and hoping to get caught up. Jennifer wrote to ask, "As an agent and a reader, are there writing errors that drive you crazy?"

Yes! Of course! Here’s one! Novelists who use exclamation points as though the period key didn’t work! I hate this! Really!!!

Here’s "another" one: The "author" who feels a "need" to put emphasized words in "quotes," since they apparently think it makes them look more "official." This is particularly tiresome when a "funny" author decides to put his "punchlines" in quotations. (Does anybody remember the episode of Friends where Joey kept putting "finger quotes" around certain "words," even though he didn’t understand how to do it?) Here’s an "idea" — cut the quotation marks in your "epic."

And a third (related) item: People who use an open parenthesis but no close parenthesis. (For example, this kind.

Fourth is the serial comma. Drives me crazy. The rule for using commas is that there should be ONE LESS COMMA THAN THE ITEMS IN YOUR LIST. So if you list five things, you’d use four commas. An example: "Farnsworth visited Scotland, Wales, England, Ireland, and Djibouti." Note that there are five countries and four commas — one less than the list. Writers often drop the last comma, in an apparent attempt to make "Ireland and Djibouti" one country. (Similar to Trinidad and Tobaggo, if you’re into geography jokes.) Makes no sense at all.

Fifth is the adverbial ending "ly," which some authors insert regularly in an attemptly to sound scholarly. Note that this paragraph doesn’t start with the word "fifthly." From a strict editorial perspective, "fifth" is an adverb. To add  "ly" to the end is to adverbialize an adverb. Why write "firstly" when it is clearer to write "first"? (Besides, if it’s a long list, can you really defend "thirteenthly"?)

Sixthly, :o ) I hate jumbled numbers in an outline. I have a nonfiction proposal on my desk right now that contains an overview that could simply be numbered 1 through 12. Or "first" through "twelfth." Instead, this number-impaired author begins with "first," follows that with "two" and "third," then offers a 4, which he later refers to (I’m not joking) as "D." Huh? Make all your numbered lists consistent. And try not to insert one numbered list into another numbered list…it drives editors insane.

Seventh: Figure out the difference between "your" and "you’re" before writing you’re book. :o ) Ditto for "its" and "it’s." (True story: I once had an editor try to convince me that there is no such word as "its," claiming that every instance should use the contracted form "it’s." I felt it was my duty to slug her on the spot.)

Eighth in my hit parade of writing errors is the overuse of the spell-checker. It wont pickup every thin. Ewe can knot rely on it soul-y. (An alternative? Learn to spell.)

A ninth issue: Print out a hard copy of your proposal and look it over before sending it along. Sometimes obvious errors appear that you didn’t catch on your screen. For example, the spacing can get all screwed up and appear totally different in print than it does electronically. Or things you’ve pasted in might print in a different font. If you’re one of those who insist on using five different fonts on your cover page, check with somebody who knows what they’re doing — I sometimes get queasy when attacked by waves of font. Look over a hard copy before sending it. Oh, and if every paragraph starts with the same word, you need to go back and do some revising. (Unless the first word of every paragraph is "I," in which case you need to be slapped, then go back and change it.)

Finally, remember that Maxwell Perkins once said that "style" is nothing more than one author’s decision to misuse the rules of grammar.  A good editor will let you misuse it in order to help you create voice (any reading of William Faulkner is evidence of this). But that same editor will notice when you’ve crossed over from "having style" to "sounding like a moron." So for goodness’ sake, get help. And listen to your editor.

If you’re interested in this topic, let me suggest you pick up a copy of Karen Gordon’s Transitive Vampire and Well Tempered Sentence, as well as Patricia O’Connor’s Woe Is I. Of course, you can also find much helpful information in the more popular Eats, Shoots, and Leaves. All these authors have a sense of humor in talking about "the rules."

To end, let me offer a quote from W. Somerset Maugham: "There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are."

-Chip