Whew. I’ve been racing around trying to get all my summer appointments in, and get boxed up for our big move, while writers keep sending questions. So without further ado…

Marie wrote to say, "I can’t figure out when exactly you post your blog. Some writers do it daily. Others on certain days. With Chip…???"

My response: "Yeah, so sue me." Sorry. I’ve been away quite a bit this summer. My wife and I had our 25th wedding anniversary, and we flew to Scotland for two weeks. Back for a week, then I had to go to the ICRS book show. My son and his wife both graduated from college. My daughter Kate graduated from high school. Back for a week, then off to speak at a writing conference at the University of Georgia. Back for a while, then I had promised to spend a day at the Oregon Writers’ Conference. Then off to Los Angeles for meetings. A few days back, before heading out to the Greater Philadelphia conference, where I was teaching a morning track to authors. And, in the midst of that, we’ve been packing for a move. But I promise to be better and get to a more regular schedule starting next week.

Dave wrote me (about five times) to ask, "Why are you doing so many conferences this year? Do you really get that much out of them?"

A year ago, when I was starting my own literary agency, I said "yes" to every conference director who contacted me. I was just getting my own company going, and I wanted everyone to know that I was in business, I was back to doing what I love, and I was ready to agent authors. So I decided to do a bunch of conferences as a way to get the word out. Maybe I wanted people to know that I was safe and sane (regardless what you’ve heard). So I went to Colorado and Blue Ridge and Seattle and Florida and Dallas and Chicago and Grand Rapids and Nashville and Atlanta and Oregon and Philly. It worked, apparently. Everybody seems to know I’m in the business again. I can promise you that I won’t ever do this sort of thing again — I got conferenced out. But I enjoyed talking with people about books and writing.

Do I get much out of conferences? Well…I enjoy the ministry side. It’s fun to talk with newbies about the basics of writing, and I LOVE talking to experienced authors about the business side of things. It’s been good to see old friends and get face to face with editors and publishers. The teaching and relationship side of conferences is wonderful. But no, it’s not a huge business for me. I don’t make much money on them. Most writing conferences pay a small stipend (a couple hundred dollars for teaching classes and meeting authors for a few days), and I’ve not been interested in seeking an extra thousand authors to represent. But, occasionally, there is a serendipity. Lisa Samson, an author I’ve long admired, ran into me at a conference and told me she was between agents. I now represent one of my heroes. Claudia Burney is somebody I met at the ACFW conference last year and now represent (she’s contracted several books with Simon & Schuster). My wife has been a huge fan of Susan Meissner, and the two of us ran into each other in line at the airport after a conference — I just helped her land a two-book deal with a division of Random House. Another writer I really respect, Bette Nordberg, first introduced herself to me at a writing conference. And several successful people in the industry (Mary DeMuth is one name that leaps to mind) were folks I met at a conference. So there’s value to them.

Staying on that theme, Vincent sent me a note and wanted to know, "How can I get the most out of a writers’ conference?" My advice would be "prepare and participate." Before you go, spend some time preparing. Study the presenters, so you’re not picking your workshops on the spur of the moment. Find out who the people are that will be teaching, and see what their qualifications are. Check out not just the topic, but the intended audience and the level at which the material will be presented. In addition, prepare the materials you’ll be bringing. No editor or agent likes to hear somebody say, "I just banged this out last night" (believe me, it happens), so spend some time preparing your proposal, bio, and one-sheet in order to make your best pitch. Speaking of pitch, prepare for that as well — practice it, OUT LOUD, so that you know what you’re going to be saying when given the chance to talk about your work. Be able to explain your book in one simple, non-technical sentence. Have a thirty-second pitch prepared, as well as a five-minute pitch for those editors who want to hear more. And, more than anything, prepare your own expectations. It’s unrealistic to think you’re going to talk to an agent for fifteen minutes and have him or her agree to represent you. It’s unrealistic to think you’re going to hand a proposal to an editor and he or she is going to make you an offer. So prepare yourself by figuring out what your expectations really are. What do you WANT to have happen? What would constitute "success" at a conference?

In my view, success for most writers at a conference is simply "someone agrees to take the next step." If it’s an agent, he agrees to read your full proposal. If it’s an editor, she agrees to let you send your completed work. If it’s a marketing specialist, he agrees to review your DVD or listen to your speech on CD. If it’s a writing mentor, she agrees to examine your work and talk about the future. Success at a conference ought to be measured in forward progress — not that you’ve arrived, but that you’ve taken a few steps down the path.

The other thing to do when approaching a writing conference is to decide you’re going to participate fully. Go to the sessions. Take notes. Join in the discussions. Submit projects. Talk to fellow members. Don’t get sucked into the attitude that you want to just sit back and observe — actively participate in the activities of the conference so that you make friends with other writers, meet publishing professionals, and learn from everyone. The people who get the most out of a writers’ conference are those who are most fully engaged.

Well, I’m down to one last conference — the ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers) conference will be in Dallas next month. They always put on a great conference, and I’m looking forward to attending. I’m teaching a workshop on publishing contracts, meeting with some authors, and putting together an interesting late-night chat. There will be three literary agents in a room, and authors can bring in a project (anonymously) for them to review. I’ve been at a few conferences where that’s been handled badly — too negative, some strange comments by presenters, and even the occasional comment from other participants. I hate to admit that I’ve come across as way too negative at a couple of these…but I’ve got high hopes for this one. It’s got three good literary agents, we all know how to evaluate things quickly, and I’m hoping it proves to be an instructive time of learning, rather than a beat-down of bad ideas. If you’re going to attend the conference, plan to join us.

Okay, the movers have come, the car carrier is on the way, and it’s time for me to grab my suitcase for our move. Enjoy the beautiful summer weather!

Nick wrote to ask me, "I’ve been approached to do some collaborative writing. What tips can you offer me? What’s the most important thing for me to know or do?"

I’ve co-authored about twenty books, and ghosted/created roughly forty more from the sermons and speeches of various teachers, so I know something about collaborative writing. Since I seem to be long-winded, I’ll try to summarize my thoughts in a dozen bullet points:

1. Collaborators come in about four flavors. There’s the true Collaborator, who takes the miscellaneous meanderings of a smart or interesting person and shapes it into a coherent text, often finding pertinent material to supplement the content. There’s the Co-Author, who adds his own content and generally gets some credit for having a mind of his own. Third is the Ghostwriter, who creates material before getting shafted by the author, whose ego is too big to acknowledge the use of a writer. And finally there is the Mega-Editor, who re-shapes or sharpens the thoughts of the author. (These aren’t really the industry terms — this is from the MacGregor Dictionary of Publishing Words.) I start here just so you’ll understand that there are different types of collaborative writing that you can be asked to do.

2. Clearly define your role. Make sure you understand what the job is and what you’re being asked to do before you agree to do it. On the one hand, you have to be wary of writing someone else’s book for them. On the other, there’s no sense writing for someone who merely wants you to do a quick edit of their work. This has happened to me on more than one occasion — I did great work, which the author always thanked me for effusively, just before throwing it out so that they could use their own lousy, turgid prose.   

3. Clearly define your agreement. Basically you want a written letter or email that details "I will do this work for that amount of money." It’s also nice if it clarifies "you’re going to give me this material, and you expect me to complete my work by this date." I encourage you to do this even if it’s a small project. You don’t have to make it a formal, signed contract — but get something in writing that details the assignment. That way, should there ever be a disagreement, you have something you can all look back on that will clarify the job.

4. Define what "success" is for the project. You should know before starting the project what the author wants as an end product. If they’re paying you for a rough draft, produce it. If they’re paying you for a polished final manuscript, produce that. But if you don’t define success, you’ll often find that your expectations may not match up with their expectations.

5. Make sure you can do the job. I love writing, and I love learning new things, so I always enjoyed taking on collaborative projects. I wrote manuscripts that taught me about guns, about investing in stocks, about card tricks, about Scripture… Writing collaboratively was as good as any class I ever took in college. (Not that I was paying attention in college. I was a theater arts major — we just emoted a lot and tried to look worldly.) If you don’t like this sort of thing, or if you don’t enjoy trying to mimic someone else’s voice, you should stay away from collaborating.

6. Don’t say "yes" to a project you don’t understand. Old preachers have a saying: "If it’s a mist in the pulpit, it’s a fog in the pew." The same goes for collaborating. If you’re a bit misty about the project after you’ve talked at length with the author, you’ll find yourself in a total pea-souper when trying to write. Have a hard and fast rule: You will be able to tell someone what the book is about in one simple, non-technical sentence. If you can’t do that, say "no thanks" to the project. (I once said yes to a book that was a complete mystery to me. I kept writing sentences with phrases like "the focusing centerpoint of emphasis." It was terrible. To this day I have no idea what the author was trying to convey.)

7. If you don’t like the author, do not take on the project. Never. Ever. Imagine the phone ringing, you look down and see it’s the author, Mr. Farnsworth. Your first reaction is to roll your eyes, shake your head, and yell "NO! NOT FARNSWORTH!" A bad sign. Life is too short. If you’re not comfortable with the author after spending some time together, politely decline and move on. No matter how much they offer to pay you.

8. You don’t want to take on a project if you don’t agree with the basic premise. I’m one of those people who has done a lot of faith & spirituality titles, so I have a pretty big tent when it comes to accepting differing theologies. I don’t have to agree with you on every issue, since I figure we’re all wrong on some small point (meaning, at best, we’re all probably heretics). But if the basic premise of the book is whacked, say no. I used to write for Adrian Rogers, a wonderful Southern Baptist pastor down in Memphis who had a big radio ministry and a lot of good things to say. I respected the man very much, but he once hired me to write an article for him in which he claimed that Jesus didn’t really drink wine. I thought it was a bad idea to begin with, but once I heard his sermon, I couldn’t believe it. One of the hokiest, most contrived mis-uses of Scripture I’d ever heard. ("What about Jesus turning water into wine at the wedding feast?" "That was just grape juice." "But wasn’t the bridegroom praised for having saved the best wine until after the guests were drunk?" "It might have been a non-alcoholic form of strong drink.") Okay, so I wrote it anyway. And I’ve always felt guilty for perpetrating this tripe on other people. Save yourself the trouble. If somebody asks you to write rot, say no.

9. Don’t write like they talk — write like they ought to talk. There’s a myth surrounding collaborators, that they sort of transcribe what the author says, then clean it up a bit. That’s not collaborative writing. Quick — what was the last book of speeches you bought? (Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?) Right. Nobody buys books of speeches. The spoken word and the written word are two very different forms of communication. So don’t just write down what they said — find a way to transition it into well-written prose.

10. If you’re asked to ghostwrite something, ask for a reason. I’ve been at this for years, and I’ve yet to hear a reasonable explanation why a writer should not be credited. So if you’re asked to ghost something, ask them why. It’s been proven that listing a collaborative author doesn’t hurt book sales. Look at any celebrity or sports star who authors a book, and the collaborator is always listed. Why the change when it comes to pastors, politicians, and speakers? Let’s face it, there’s only one basic reason for requesting the collaborative writer’s name not be on the book or title page: To stroke the author’s ego. (Success and money aren’t enough — they also need to pretend they wrote a book.) And to that I can only say "rot." (Another true tale: I once worked with a woman who had a huge TV ministry. She would always ask for a collaborative writer, tell them they’d get credit, then try to back out of that commitment at the last moment. Apparently she couldn’t live with the idea of her followers thinking she would stoop so low as to let someone help her write coherent sentences. There’s a lesson: if you’re going to get credit, get the commitment in writing.)

11. Don’t insist on becoming best friends. Sure, when you spend several weeks helping someone craft his or her personal story, you’ll develop a bond. But it’s just a temporary one.  You don’t need to be best friends — instead, you need to write well so that you get the best book possible, get paid, and get another author to hire you for the next project. Sometimes a little distance can actually help you write a more honest, compelling story.

12. "I’ve got this great personal story!" Sooner or later, you’re going to be approached by somebody with a tale that sounds like this: "I’ve had the most incredible things happen. You won’t believe it. God moved. Miracles happened. Whenever I share my story in church, old ladies cry and men slap my back. I want you to come write it for me. I won’t be able to pay you much, but it’s a dynamite story, and soon we’re going to sell it to a publisher, who will get it onto store shelves, where it will hit the bestseller lists. They’ll make a movie out of it, probably starring Tom Cruise. We’ll be rich. I can’t wait. Come join me." The individual saying this will be nice. He or she will be earnest. They may even tug at your heartstrings.

Say no. Don’t explain, just say no and walk away. Trust me on this. If you want to do it as a ministry, fine. If you have a couple weeks to waste on this sort of project, by all means go ahead and leave the real jobs to other writers. But listen carefullly to this bit of wisdom: There is no market for personal stories. None. Nada. Zero Zip. Zilch-a-rooni. Yeah, yeah — personal stories used to be big. It’s fun to hear some guy stand up and tell you his amazing tale of miracles and whodathunkits and God at Work in the Lives of Men. Maybe if you could transport that person around the country, so that he or she could explain the story to every potential book buyer, it would work.

But probably not. So forget it. Sure, there’s a market for movie stars and the coach of the winning Super Bowl team. Every once in a while a Lisa Beamer will come along and offer an incredibly moving story, touching lives with her grace and poise. But that happens about once every five years or so. I just checked Poor Richard’s Almanac, and it says that’s not scheduled to happen this year. So forget it. Say no. Put down the keyboard and walk away.

Chip MacGregor (who was chosen "Boy of the Year" by his high school graduating class of 1976…really! Hey, wouldn’t that make a great book?)

Lots of reader questions today. Cheryl wrote to ask, "Who writes dialogue worth studying?"

My response: Elmore Leonard. Ross Thomas. Ann Tyler. Larry McMurtry.  Stephen King. Pat Conroy.

Denise wrote to ask, "On average, how long does an agent allow a writer to stay on board if they’re not selling any books?"

It depends on several factors: the relationship between agent and author, how ready the author was when they began working together, what sort of talent the author has, etc. I would say in our industry that people are losing patience. Everybody wants something right now. But books aren’t always created right now. If I agree to work with a writer, and believe in his talent, and come up with some sort of plan to help him get his book done, I can be awfully patient. I figure we’re working together for the long term, not just for this one book. Sometimes the writing will come more slowly than we’d hoped. Other times life events will intrude, further slowing things down. But as long as it feels like everyone is trying, and we’re really moving forward on things together, I’m generally okay with waiting — I’d rather take longer and do a great book than rush through things and do a bad book. But I know that sounds like I’m begging your question, Denise. So I’d say if an agent is representing an author, they’ve been together more than a year, the agent has tried a couple times with different writing projects, and nothing has sold…well, it’s possible the agent will simply come to the conclusion, "I’m not the right person." Or maybe, "I made a mistake in my evaluation." Or even, "I’ve put enough time and energy into this and received nothing in return — time to cut my losses." I find it’s tough to fire friends. And, as any management book will tell you, the best time to fire a person is when you don’t hire them. Because nobody likes to make that "it’s not working" phone call and cut someone loose. Of course, keep in mind the reverse can also be true: An author can feel as though her agent has tried several times to sell her work, and decide it’s time to seek new representation — someone who understands her better, or brings a different perspective, or has a different set of relationships in publishing.

Jim wrote to ask, "Whenever I read that authors are responsible for marketing their own book (rather than the publisher, the sales team, the publicist, or the marketing director), I scratch my head and wonder what it is these people do. Why not just go ahead and self publish?"

Okay…that’s an attitude that is sure to keep you from ever selling many books, Jim. I firmly believe YOU, as the author, are responsible for marketing your own book. You know your message best. You are the most committed to it. You have the most at stake. You understand the power of your words better than anyone else. If you want to simply take your message and hand it over for someone else to take care of, you’re going to be disappointed. A publishing house has hundreds of titles it is managing, with perhaps 30 to 70 titles it is trying to market right now. Unless your book zooms to the top of the bestseller list based on your name recognition, past sales history, current events, or an act of God, the publisher is going to do what they can — then they’re going to chase media for their bestselling authors, because publishing is an 80/20 business. (That is to say, 80% of the revenues come from 20% of the titles. Maybe it’s more like a 90/10 business.) The days of saying, "I just write the manuscript and hand it over to the publisher to take care of" are gone (if in fact they ever existed). What publishers and their marketing staffs do are print and sell books. Any marketing they do for you is to be considered an added bonus. And, of course, you’re welcome to self-publish — but without the opportunities to sell into stores, you’re bound to sell even fewer copies than if you publish with a regular publisher. More on self-pubbing in a moment…

Stevie Ray wrote to ask, "What do you think of self-publishing, and are there any companies that clearly stand above the rest in the services they offer?"

I think self-publishing is a great way to feel like a big shot while losing a lot of money very fast. The problem with going to a vanity press has little to do with your message and everything to do with your methods, so let me start with the most important lesson of self pubbiing: if you don’t have a method for selling your book, you’re going to lose money. There are other lessons — like "surround yourself with professionals" and "do some comparison shopping," but the whole money scenario is the key point. Let’s say you pay five bucks a book, and you order 5000 copies — that’s $25,000 you’ve sunk into this venture. You’d better have a plan to make it work. Most don’t. They think their wisdom and writing excellence is going to be readily apparent to readers, so all they have to do is pull them from the trunk of their car and — voila! The books magically turn into money!

And that’s completely stupid. Most self-pubbed books are a complete joke. Some vanity presses will take whatever crap you give them and print it — you’ll get a bad idea that’s poorly written, printed on cheap paper, offering a lousy binding and a godawful cover. AND you get 5000 of them, delivered to your garage. On the upside…you feel like a big shot! You’re now an author! You can walk up to somebody at church, hold out your book, and reveal what a brilliant human being you are. You can leave copies out on your kitchen counter, so that when friends drop by, you can effect your "aw shucks" attitude and admit that, yes, your book has come out. You can send a copy to each of your siblings — THAT will teach ‘em for calling you "Zit Face" in high school. And then, after you’ve sold a copy to each of your aunts, you begin to wonder what to do with the remaining 4946 copies. This brings to mind an old publishing adage: You can’t eat books. So they just stay there, taking up space and gathering dust. You don’t want to throw out your life’s work. There’s a definite hit to your ego to watch your own words get turned into landfill…so you leave them, in hopes that a miracle will happen, you’ll get discovered, and all those books will sell.

Okay, so a couple thoughts. First, if you’ve taken your writing around to several agents and editors, and they’ve all said "this sucks," those publishing professionals may have a point. Second, if you are hoping for a miracle…well, God bless you, but you’ve got no more brains than a gerbil. I certainly believe in miracles (An example: Patti is still married to me after 25 years), but I don’t build my business by hoping for one. Third, if you plan to self-publish, surround yourself with a professional editor, a real-world book cover designer, and a publicist. Fourth, work with somebody who will put a bar code on your book, get you an ISBN number, and do a quality job of printing. But most important, put together a plan for how you’re going to sell your self-pubbed book.

I’ve self-published some books, but they were aimed at a specific audience (card magicians) that I know well (I’m a longtime member of magic organizations and a former associate editor of a national magic magazine), and I knew how to sell to them (buying ads in the four big magic magazines, contacting magic store owners, and connecting with members of the two magician’s organizations). I put a plan together, complete with a budget, for how I’d market and sell the books. It worked — sold them all, and made a nice profit. But without this sort of clear plan, you’d be better off simply shortening your message to a few words and writing it onto dollar bills you give away. It would attract more interest, and, in fact, would probably be cheaper.

There are some companies who can do a good job for you — the best one I know of is Wine Press, headquartered up in Seattle. They use professional editors, they can link you with publicity people, and they even have ties to a sales group that can present your book to stores. Miles ahead of the companies that just take your manuscript electronically, then barf it out onto paper. (I don’t work for Wine Press, nor do I get anything for promoting them. I’ve just found they do good work.)

Last item: You may not believe this. In fact, I can’t use the individual’s real name, so let’s say that "Melvin" wrote to ask, "Will you look at my work? I have great novels and if you want to make harry potter type money you will. But you have to have an open mind my novels are not for children they are  adult novels that aren’t written for today they say something and create worlds that you have to figure out which one is real. Are you a real agent? A real agent can sell anything. They make money when they sell the novel. I HAVE A COLLEGE DEGREE AND AN IQ OF 180. SO HELP ME OR BE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY DEATH."

Um…Melvin, I’m normally interested in adult novels that aren’t written for today. And I’m certainly interested in making "harry potter type money." But…I’m really busy right now wrapping aluminum foil around my head, so that the aliens won’t be able to eat my brains. I’ll just have to live with your blood on my hands. Sorry. But have a nice day.

Oh, and you may want to talk to the doctor again about upping your meds.